


Objection (Tango)

by CirillaShepard



Series: Calibrations [2]
Category: Mass Effect
Genre: Dates, Dating, F/M, Fluff, Kinda, Suggestive Themes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-07
Updated: 2016-08-07
Packaged: 2018-08-07 06:50:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7704631
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CirillaShepard/pseuds/CirillaShepard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on an anonymous prompt on Tumblr:<br/>‘I’d love to see a different take on the tango scene from the Citadel DLC where Shepard isn’t embarrassed to dance with Garrus because she’d taken lessons while she’d been relieved of duty.’</p>
            </blockquote>





	Objection (Tango)

**Author's Note:**

> **DISCLAIMER**  
> I do not own anything from the Mass Effect game series (unfortunately) but BioWare does.  
> Damn them.  
> I’m just borrowing their characters for fun when my muse grabs me.  
> ______________________________________________________________________________________________________  
> The Calibrations series is a collection of one shots featuring Garrus and Shepard.  
> Mostly fluffy, some angsty and there may even be some light smut eventually.  
> (please note that there’s no real chronological order to the chapters unless stated in the notes)  
> ______________________________________________________________________________________________________  
> I am also on [Tumblr](http://memoryandthought.tumblr.com) so come and say hi!

OBJECTION (TANGO)  
_“I got dizzy dancing tango…I’m falling apart in your hands again…”_  
  
_Chirp-chirp-chirp._  
  
Shepard looked up from the seemingly endless stream of paperwork and datapads that were strewn over her desk at the sound of her omni-tool pinging softly. With a sigh, she checked the incoming message, dreading its contents – she’d had more than enough emergencies and requests that had been pouring in despite the fact that she (along with the rest of her crew) were on a much needed break while the Normandy was undergoing maintenance and repair.  
  
_J,_  
_You’re on shore leave – stop doing paperwork and take a break._  
_Meet me at the bar on the Silver Strip. That’s an order, woman._  
_G x_  
  
Shepard couldn’t help the smile that was spreading across her lips. How Garrus always knew that she needed cheering up was beyond her; but she was more than thankful for it. Another ping drew her attention and she looked down at the new message.  
  
_Wear **that** dress. You know which one I mean._  
  
The instruction made her shake her head with a soft chuckle and she made her way up to the bedroom she had claimed as hers in the ridiculously oversized apartment that Anderson had generously donated to her and opened the closet doors.  
The hem of that dress peeked out at her and she pulled it out, lips pursing.  
It was a nice dress, certainly, but not really something she would ever wear. Kasumi, Tali and Miranda had had to practically force her to buy it way back when she had to attend that ridiculous gathering thrown by Donovan Hock. She’d ended up wearing something different in the end and the dress remained unworn.  
  
A deep blue with a fitted bodice that laced at the back and a skirt that flared out at the waist, the dress was a total knockout, but Shepard felt a little uncomfortable in something so…flirty and girly.  
A frown creased her brow and her omni-tool pinged again.  
  
_And stop frowning at it!_  
  
A laugh bubbled past Shepards lips and she rolled her eyes. He knew her far too well.  
  
“Well,” she muttered to herself, “if I’m wearing this, I may as well go all out. I’m gonna need some help.”  
  
She fired off a message and waited for the cavalry to arrive.  
  
______________________________________________________________________________________________________  
  
Garrus leaned against the bar, tumbler of Parthian brandy in one hand and sharp eyes on the stairs. He had arrived early, scoped out the dance floor and drinks menu and settled in to wait for his date; hoping that his request had been taken into consideration.  
He raised his glass, took a swallow and then nearly choked on it as a familiar figure walked slowly up the stairs.  
  
_Spirits_ , he thought, _she looks…_  
  
“Woah, is that Commander Shepard?” the bartender whistled long and low, “who knew that was hiding under all the armor?”  
  
Garrus shot a glare at the suddenly far-too-attentive bartender and moved towards Shepard, wrapping an arm around her waist and tugging her close.  
  
She had, indeed worn that dress and had drawn the laces at the back tighter than usual which accentuated her waist in a way that made Garrus’ mouth go dry.  
She was wearing heels that made her legs look even longer; her deep red hair pinned up with loose tendrils framing her face and she had even applied a little makeup – her green eyes looked smoky and alluring and her full lips were rosy and begged to be kissed.  
  
“I…” Garrus cleared his throat, swallowed the rest of his drink and tried again, “you look beautiful.”  
“Thanks,” she smiled and pressed a gentle kiss to his mouth, “so, I’m guessing you had something in mind for tonight?”  
“I thought we could have a few drinks and see where the night takes us,” Garrus looked down at her; still reeling slightly from how incredible she looked.  
  
To him, she was always beautiful – in battle she was fierce and a force to be reckoned with, flame-red hair flying around her face and bright green eyes flashing with excitement. In her downtime she was quiet and relaxed, fierceness giving way to a serenity that made her eyes sparkle and her lips quirk in a fraction of a smile and in their private moments together she had a certain fragility to her that took his breath away.  
Right now, she was a mix of fierce and relaxed; confusion across her brow and a half-smile on her lips as she tucked her arm through his.  
They ordered drinks and Shepard perched on a bar stool, sipping a wonderfully girly looking cocktail as Garrus idly traced a lazy circle over her shoulder with a talon.  
  
“So what do you normally do with shore leave?” Shepard asked after a moment.  
“Hm, Turians generally use it to go over strategy, techniques and keep ourselves fit. I assumed humans did the same, but…” He cast an eye over the throng of people dancing and drinking.  
“Some of us do, some of us go out and let loose and some of us busy ourselves with paperwork,” Shepard chuckled and Garrus shook his head at her.  
“You needed a break, that’s why I asked you to meet me,” he curved his hand over her hip and began gently propelling her to the dance floor.  
“What are you doing, Garrus?”  
“Oh, nothing,” his reply was clearly aiming for nonchalance and failing miserably, “just thought you might like to dance with your boyfriend.”  
  
Shepards dancing skills, or rather lack thereof, were legendary among the crew of the Normandy. She was constantly teased for what had been affectionately nicknamed the “Shepard Shuffle” and her complete inability to move with any degree of grace or rhythm were the source of many, many jokes.  
  
Garrus stopped moving and looked at her, fully prepared for her to decline and make her way back to the bar but to his surprise she grinned mischievously and took his hand. His brow plates rose in shock, his mandible flaring in a smile and he spun her under his arm; bringing her close to his body as he curved his arm around her waist and took her other hand.  
The music changed from a pounding dance track to a sultry tango-style piece that slithered slowly up Shepards spine and made her heart rap out a beat in time.  
Garrus picked up the beat quickly and led her round the dance floor in a formal routine that made her arch an eyebrow in surprise.  
  
“I’m impressed, Vakarian, where did you learn to tango?”  
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Shepard,” he murmured in her ear as he twirled her in his arms.  
  
She leaned back against his body, back arched as one arm curled around his carapace and brushed her fingertips ever so lightly across the tip of his fringe. As quick as the touch came, her arm moved away and she swayed her hips, shimmying down his body and back up; spinning on the balls of her feet to face him again.  
  
“Likewise,” she purred and with a grin raised her leg up against his; her foot hooking around the spur of his leg in an action she knew was considered flirtatious among Turian mates.  
Garrus’ eyes dilated at the action and a low, throaty growl rumbled through him. Shepard smirked as both his arms went around her, hands clasped at her back as he leant backwards and took her with him; her body pressed flush to his.  
A murmur went through the crowd that had gathered around the dance floor and, as Garrus moved them both into a standing position, Shepard twisted gracefully and bent backwards over his arm; back arched and head thrown back exposing her throat in a gesture that was almost painfully erotic to Garrus.  
  
The crowd burst into frantic applause and Shepard blinked, cheeks flushed and eyes glittering; Garrus’ mandible flaring wildly in the biggest approximation of a smile Shepard had ever seen him wear.  
  
“Where the hell did you learn to do that?” He asked as they left the dance floor.  
“One of the lieutenants that was tasked with keeping an eye on me while I was relieved of duty could dance so I asked her for a few pointers,” a smile curved her lips as she added, “I thought it might come in useful one day.”  
“Oh it did,” Garrus purred against her ear; “so…do these new found skills translate into other areas?”  
  
Shepard raised one eyebrow and smiled seductively before heading to the stairs that led to the main part of the casino and, ultimately, out to her apartment. At the top of the stairs, she stopped and glanced at Garrus over her shoulder, beckoning him to follow her with a slow motion of her forefinger and sauntered away with a casual roll of her hips.  
  
Garrus hesitated for a fraction of a second while his mind ran through the endless meanings that one action promised and then all but ran to catch her.


End file.
